


mutually assured distraction

by kissteethstainred



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Hook-Up, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in a Car, i could have easily made this fic not sex in a car but whom would want that?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 02:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10504371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissteethstainred/pseuds/kissteethstainred
Summary: Monty went to a party for a distraction and found Nathan Miller.





	

**Author's Note:**

> me: has a billion trillion ideas and au's  
> me: writes this (& smut too? whom am i . . .)
> 
> hope you have fun anyway! these characters are of age

Monty was pissed. 

So pissed, in fact, that he decided that stealing his mother’s car close to one in the morning—to head to the same party Jasper swore he wasn’t going to but miraculously was currently at—was a good idea. Thankfully the party was at Clarke Griffin’s house, which meant it was close enough to Monty that he wasn’t going out of his way. 

Monty listened to loud, angry music on his way there, which only served to fuel his current state of emotions further. When he got to Clarke’s neighborhood—spectacularly rich, which also set Monty on edge—he swerved into a parking spot and stalked to her house. The house was pumping with music, lights, and kids. Some people greeted Monty as he walked up, and he gave them tight smiles before entering the house and the pulsing mass of kids. 

Monty had barely made it five steps before Harper found him. She smiled and yelled, “Monty!” before throwing her arms around his neck. He greeted her back and then asked her where Jasper was.

“No idea,” Harper said with a shrug, bringing her cup to her mouth. She almost took a sip, but then she added, “Oh, he’s with Maya!”

Yeah, no shit. That’s why Monty was pissed in the first place: Monty had previously been ditched by Jasper to be with girls and Monty had asked Jasper not to pull shit like it again, but here he was. Monty’s anger could be clouding his judgement right now, but he knew there was a difference between saying, “I’m taking Maya to Clarke’s party” and “No, Monty, of course I’m not going to the party.” 

And Jasper had definitely said the latter. 

The song changed into something more upbeat and Harper grinned again. “I love this song! Come dance with me!”

“Sorry, but I’m gonna try and find Jasper!”

Harper shrugged again and thrust her drink in Monty’s hand. “Then drink something to lighten things up! You look way too down right now.” With that, she turned and disappeared into the mass of teenagers all dancing in what probably used to be the living room. 

Monty clutched at the drink as he pushed through. On second thought, the drink wasn’t a half bad idea—Monty would yell at Jasper, and once he was done tearing Jasper’s head off, he’d forget about all this shit by drinking himself stupid.

Monty figured the best place to find Jasper was either in the couple’s corner or the weed corner, so he just had to find out which rooms those two places occupied. He pushed past the stereo and the giant drinks table, where he saw Clarke and Wells talking to other kids, and as he was turning to go into the kitchen, he ran straight into someone else.

Immediately his cup of alcohol was out of his hand, but thankfully it seemed to slosh more on their shoes than on themselves. Monty got a quick, “Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” before he looked up and realized he’d run straight into Nathan Miller.

Monty paused, not even caring that he was staring a little. Nathan Miller was still apologizing, and Monty was mesmerized by the way the lights flashed across his face. Monty realized that _this_ was his solution: not yelling at Jasper, not alcohol, but Nathan Miller, who had recently ended it with his boyfriend of almost two years. 

Monty interrupted Miller’s apologizing with, “Hey, it’s fine. Promise.” Miller still looked unsure, so Monty added, “Besides, it looked like it ruined both of our drinks. So I’m sorry, too.”

Miller said, “Yeah, but I was the one who ran into you.”

Monty decided to go for it, and gave Miller a smile that’s intimate enough to be flirtatious but small enough that Monty could deny it. He said, “It’s easily forgivable . . . if you get me another drink.” 

Miller stared at him for a moment. Miller was quiet and muscular, which of course meant that he always seemed intimidating and like he never wanted to talk to anyone. But Monty gets the feeling he’s just—analytical. Introspective. 

“Sure,” Miller said slowly. He still held Monty’s gaze, and Monty thought he found understanding in them. Interest. “You wanna wait here, or—?”

Monty glanced back at the drinks table, where a lot of their classmates were hanging out and talking. His plan was to get laid, not waylaid, so he said, “I’ll stay here.” 

Miller nodded and set off, though he looked back at Monty once while he was fighting the crowd of kids. Monty felt warmth bloom in his stomach, and he walked until he could rest his back against the wall. 

Monty watched as Miller got his ear talked off by the people at the drinks table, but Miller brushed it off easily and returned far quicker than Monty would have. It’s that rough, intimidating exterior, Monty thought. Miller could probably get away with anything. 

Miller returned to Monty with two drinks clutched in hand, and Monty thanked him warmly for it. Monty took a small sip, watched Miller do the same, and then said, “So, come here often?”

Miller leveled a _look_ at him, which made Monty laugh. He shrugged and said, “Alright, just wanted to see if I could crack your mighty stoicism. But seriously: what brings you here?”

Miller snorted. “Bellamy dragged me here.”

“You didn't want to come?”

“I’m not really in the mood for . . .” Miller’s eyes glanced over the room for a moment, and he gestured around vaguely with his free hand. “But Bellamy said I need to be more sociable because . . . yeah. And the alcohol helped a little. I need a good distraction.”

“Because of the breakup,” Monty said, looking Miller straight in the eye. 

Miller’s throat worked for a second. Then, returning Monty’s gaze squarely, replied, “Yeah, because of the breakup. Bellamy said I’d been moping for too long and needed to get out, and if I hated it I could just get drunk.” Miller took a deep breath and then laughed. “Sorry for dumping that on you,” he said, running his hand over his head in embarrassment. “That’s not really party talk.”

Monty smiled. “I asked, didn't I?”

Miller said, “That's true.” He took another drink and considered Monty. “So why are you here?”

“Same as you,” Monty said, letting his eyes linger on Miller. “I'm here for a distraction.” 

Miller nodded slowly. “Right. Right.” He cleared his throat. “And what do you need a distraction _from_?”

“You know Jasper?” When Miller nodded, Monty continued, “He has this incredible tendency to ditch me for other people, especially the girls he's interested in. I've told him a hundred times that it’s shitty, but he continues to do it.”

“And he did it tonight,” Miller filled in. 

Monty gave a twisted smile and said, “Bingo. So I came here to yell at him, but I ran into you instead.” Monty took another small sip of his beer and smiled. “I definitely like this outcome better.” 

Miller held Monty’s gaze for a moment before breaking away to look around the room, his throat working again. When he returned his eyes back to Monty, he said, “I'm not good at this.”

“At what?”

“Monty.” This Miller said with another look, one that said _you know what I mean_ , and Monty’s stomach curled pleasantly at the sound of his name in Miller’s mouth. 

“You're doing good so far from my end,” Monty said. “I'm happy.” 

“I haven’t had to _try_ to be with someone for a long time,” Miller continued. “It’s hard.”

“So you’re trying? To get with me?”

The expression on Miller’s face said he clearly knew he just got owned, but Monty didn’t tease him further. He took Miller’s cup of beer, still mostly full, and placed it on a side table next to them. Miller let him do it, but he said, “Funny. I had plans on drinking that.”

Monty quirked his eyebrow and said, “Funny. Getting with me requires consent,” and Miller bursted out laughing. When he was done, he stepped closer.

“Clever,” he said, his eyes mostly on Monty’s mouth.

Monty put a hand up between them before Miller could fully close the distance, even though there were so many kids there that they pushed Miller against Monty anyway. Miller held himself back at Monty’s silent request despite that, which pleased Monty immensely. 

“Just to be clear,” Monty said. “This is a one night thing. We’re both here for a distraction—something easy and casual. Understood?”

Miller nodded his head and said, “Mutually assured distraction.” 

Monty laughed and parroted back, “ _Clever_ ,” only a little mocking. But Miller agreed, so Monty put his hand down and let Miller step closer. He waited for Miller to kiss him, only so that if he wanted a way out he could take it. 

Also, Monty _did_ do most of the work here. He wouldn’t do it all. 

Miller held Monty’s eyes as he stepped closer and raised a hand to Monty’s neck, and it was only once they were close enough to breathe each other’s air that Miller’s eyes dropped to Monty’s mouth again. Monty’s stomach burst into flame, and he grabbed onto Miller’s waist the second Miller’s mouth touched his. 

Miller’s first kiss was hesitant, soft, and Monty didn’t push it—Miller had just broken up with his ex, and Monty was probably the first guy Miller had kissed since. But once Miller got over the strangeness the hesitancy disappeared completely, and Miller became a boy who _knew_ how to kiss another boy, who had two years of knowledge of it. The force of his kisses dizzied Monty, and he clutched tighter at Miller’s waist. 

Everything seemed to come and go in waves. One minute all Monty could focus on was Miller’s mouth, and the next he was suddenly aware of how the deep bass of the music vibrated in his whole body, matching the frantic beating of his heart. One minute Monty thought it was just him and Miller in the entire world, and the next he was aware of the chatter of the kids and the way they pushed Miller against Monty’s body. One minute all he could focus on was the hot, slick way Miller licked into Monty’s mouth, and the next thing he knew Miller was sucking on Monty’s pulsepoint. Monty’s brain felt lightheaded. His mouth felt swollen. His body was hot. His cock was hard.

There was suddenly nothing in the world better than being pushed up against a wall and kissed, Monty decided when Miller’s thigh shifted between his legs. Monty groaned into the next kiss, and Miller’s hands found their way under Monty’s shirt.

Monty arched his body up against Miller’s, his eyes closed as Miller claimed his mouth in another lush kiss, and molded his hands to Miller’s shoulders. 

The next time Miller ground up against him, the friction against his cock was so good that Monty made a noise akin to _holy fuck_ please _touch me_. Miller’s mouth was against Monty’s jawline, so it was easy enough (once he got his voice under control) for Monty to say, “I have a car.”

Miller pulled back, his pupils blown and his mouth red and wet. Monty suddenly wanted Miller to suck him off so badly it physically hurt. Miller repeated, “A car?”

“I figure that this late at night, all the rooms are taken,” Monty said. He could see the heat in Miller’s eyes when he realized what Monty meant, and Monty licked his lips. Tilted his back a little. Said, “If you’re up for it.”

Miller only needed a moment to say, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Miller nodded, moved in to kiss Monty again. Monty thought he’d drown in that kiss, but Miller eventually broke it. When he did, he said hoarsely, “Yes. Okay.” 

Monty touched the tip of his finger to Miller’s bottom lip, his chest still heaving, and then he grabbed Miller’s hand and said, “After me.” 

They made their way through the crowd of kids easily enough. Monty didn’t realize how hot and flushed he was until the colder night air relieved his skin. There were a couple of people milling about outside, but once they went further down the street no one was around.

Miller made a comment about Monty’s haphazard parking job, and Monty said, “Do you want me to get you off or not?” as he opened the door to the backseat. Miller wisely quieted. 

Monty found himself being pushed down onto the backseat, kissed within an inch of his life again. He knew it wasn’t the most comfortable position, but as he twisted his fingers into Miller’s shirt and wrapped his free leg around Miller’s waist, he honestly didn’t care.

“I really was going to blow you,” Monty said as Miller helped Monty with his jacket, “but I don’t keep any condoms in here.” 

“What kind of self-respecting guys asks other guys to have sex in their car without keeping condoms in here?” 

“The kind of guy who steals his mom’s car,” Monty said, and Miller burst into laughter, his forehead resting on Monty’s shoulder as his body shook. 

“I’m sure we’ll manage just fine,” Miller said, and promptly cupped Monty through his jeans to prove it. Monty released a long breath through his teeth, his fingers clenching in Miller’s shirt. 

Monty literally wanted nothing more than for Miller to continue, but he forced himself to say, “Wait, wait.” Miller backed off, unsure, but Monty followed him up with a messy kiss to the corner of his mouth and said, “Sorry, but if I get come on the car seats my mom will kill me, so—” They maneuvered a little so that Monty could lean over the back and pull out a blanket his mother kept there. When Monty returned, Miller had pulled his shirt off, and Monty’s mouth went entirely dry.

“Holy fuck,” he said, unable to tear his eyes away. Miller’s mouth changed into a smug, cutting smirk and that was almost even hotter. Monty just repeated, “Holy fuck,” while Miller took the blanket from his hands and spread it over the seat. Monty worked his own shirt off, and when Miller pushed him back down against the seat, Monty’s cock was straining so hard against his jeans that just the slightest press of Miller’s hips made him buck up and groan.

Miller’s skin was hard and hot, and Monty dragged his hands over the muscles of his shoulders and abs. Miller undid Monty’s jeans while Monty kissed him messily, and when Miller got a hand around his cock Monty’s entire body arched up into his touch.

At first Miller only rubbed him, the friction dry but hot, and Monty closed his eyes and gasped through it. Then Miller retracted his hand to his mouth. Monty saw a flash of tongue for a moment, and then Miller’s hand returned, the slide of his fingers slick and tight on Monty’s cock.

Miller’s mouth sucked at his collarbone while he stroked Monty, fast and confidant. Monty almost said _How the fuck did your boyfriend ever let you go_ , but managed to hold his tongue at the last second. Instead he said, “How—holy fuck, _Miller_.” 

Miller nipped at Monty’s collarbone so lightly it could have been the prick of his stubble, and he said, “Call me Nate,” so at the next twist of Miller’s hand, Monty was gasping, “Nate, _fuck_ , Nate.” 

Monty came quickly after that: Miller’s hand was perfect, his strokes long and hard, and Monty came while Miller’s mouth bruised his neck. He faintly noticed that his come got on both of their stomachs, and it was so hot Monty shivers.

Suddenly the biggest crime in the world was that Miller had not come yet, so Monty pushed Miller back. Miller went, his brow creasing, but once Monty followed him, he grinned. Monty straddled Miller’s lap and quickly shoved Miller’s jeans down. Miller’s hands were hot on his back, his eyes heavily lidded as he watched Monty slip a hand into his pants. Monty was watching him as he did, so he saw the way Miller’s mouth dropped open and his head tilted back. 

He really was the hottest person Monty had ever had sex with. Monty curled his fingers tighter around Miller’s cock just to hear the raspy way Miller swore, and Monty grinned fiercely. 

Monty didn’t jerk Miller off as roughly as Miller did him, letting his grip loosen a couple of times just to tease. Miller liked it, by the way he swore and pushed his hips up—Monty kept the pace slow and light until Miller groaned, said, “Monty, _please_ , fuck—”

Monty might not have had a thing for begging before this, but he sure as fuck did now.

Monty tightened his grip, used Miller’s precome to make the slide easier, said, “Fuck, you’re so hot.” Miller’s cock was hot and heavy in Monty’s hand, and he wanted to put his mouth to it so badly, wanted to feel the weight of it against his tongue. He put his mouth to Miller’s ear and told Miller so, how he wished he could suck him off, how he wanted to hear Miller beg to come in his mouth, and Miller moaned and said, “Kiss me, Monty, please—kiss me.”

Monty kissed him in a harsh meeting of their mouths, kissed him as Miller’s cock filled in his hand and Miller came, kissed him as Miller panted into his mouth. Miller’s nails dug into Monty’s spine and Monty hissed, scraping his teeth against Miller’s bottom lip.

Monty let himself slide out of Miller’s lap into the open seat, although he kept one leg slung over Miller’s lap. Miller was breathing heavily, his eyes closed and his chest heaving. His abs were still wet with Monty’s—probably both of theirs now—come. It was strangely intimate, and suddenly Monty was extremely disoriented.

Monty slumped further against the seat, exhausted and unbalanced. He pulled his leg away to let Miller tuck himself back in, and Monty only muttered a quick, “Thanks,” when Miller handed him the jacket to wipe himself off. 

Because that was the problem with what just happened, Monty realized belatedly—it had been too intimate. Miller wanted to be called Nate instead of Miller—wanted Monty to kiss him as he came. In the end, Miller hadn’t wanted casual sex, hadn’t wanted it to be quick and easy—he’d wanted intimacy. It was the opposite of what they agreed to, and it left Monty feeling strangely angry and confused all at once.

Miller had pulled on his shirt as Monty sifted through his conflicting feelings, and Monty looked up when Miller laid a hand on his ankle.

“You okay?” Miller asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You don’t regret it? You seem . . . off.”

Monty smiled with a shake of his head. “No, I don’t regret it.” And that wasn’t a lie—Monty would do it over again. He was just upset that Miller broke their agreement. 

Miller slowly nodded, licking his lips, and he didn’t quite focus on Monty when he said, “Monty, I . . . if you’re, you know, free anytime this—”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Monty snapped, the bite in his tone enough to make Miller’s mouth shut and jaw clench. Monty sighed. “If you get into another relationship when you’re not ready, you’re just going to hurt both of us, Nate. It won’t be fair to you, and it certainly wouldn’t be fair to me.”

Monty could see that those words hurt Miller a little, but Miller only said, “No, you’re right. Of course.” He shook his head again and gave Monty a wry grin. “ _Clever_ ,” he added, and Monty snorted. 

Monty pulled on his shirt and found the keys as Miller pushed out of the car. Miller almost closed the door, but then he paused and leaned back in. 

“Look, you’re right that I’m not ready now,” he said. “But if in the future—and I don’t know when that will be—if I am ready, and you’re free and still willing, can I . . .”

Monty gave Miller a small smile. “You can call me.” Miller grinned and leaned in to kiss Monty, but Monty held up his hand again. “I won’t wait for you,” Monty said, his eyes holding Miller’s.

“I’m not asking you to,” Miller replied easily, and Monty let Miller kiss him one last time, savoring the weight of his mouth against Monty’s. Then Monty pulled away and kicked at him, said, “Get out of here.”

“Alright,” Miller said, a hickey dark on his neck and a smile light on his face. He brushed Monty’s hand and said, “Thank you, Monty,” sincerely before walking back towards the house. 

Monty folded up the blanket and jacket together carefully before climbing over into the front seat. For a couple of minutes, he just stared at his steering wheel, thinking about the emotional rollercoaster the night had been. _I just had sex with Nathan Miller_ , he thought, and then he turned on the car and began his drive back home. 

**Author's Note:**

> monty: is a little shit  
> me: loves him w/ all my heart 
> 
> thanks for reading :^)


End file.
